Catharsis
by heartsoftheocean
Summary: After the sinking, Rose is unintentionally reunited with Cal. Leaving behind the daunting memories of that night and of Jack, she continues her society life as planned. But when complications arise, trust is tested and tensions build. UPDATED VERSION. Please R&R :)
1. 1

**April, 15th, 1912 - The RMS Carpathia**

Cal's heart thudded anxiously in his chest as he made his way down the stairwell to the steerage deck. He had to get away from Ruth and her hysterical crying; her whimpers of guilt and mourning. Politely excusing himself he set off to get some air; to run away from the fact that he too was feeling something unpleasant.

He could feel the eyes of confused lower-class passengers on him as he meandered around slowly, his step heavy and his eyes bloodshot while he halfheartedly gazed around him for a flame of red hair. The crowd gawked at him with an awe he could not comprehend. To them, he was royalty; a king who had simply misplaced his crown. Little did they know he hadn't lost it like some careless child, it had been stripped from him for treasons he would never admit to.

Cal shuddered.

He didn't know what he would do if she wasn't here and, for once in his life, it seemed that failure was to be an option. A sinking feeling settled itself into Cal's stomach as he began to head back the way he came, his mind already concocting his darling fiance's eulogy. He pictured himself at the funeral, managing to keep a brave face whilst explaining to the masses of Philadelphia high society how such a rare, young beauty such as Rose DeWitt Bukater managed to perish so terribly in the greatest maritime disaster ever recorded - the sinking of the _RMS Titanic._

The irony of the situation managed a flicker of a smirk to appear on Cal's face even in his exhausted state. Turning his eyes upward to the sky, he silently wondered to himself if all of this had been some sort of sick joke. Chuckling darkly, he hoped that Rose had gotten what she deserved. Perhaps she _was_ dead, rotting away on the bottom of the Atlantic along with her precious gutter rat and "The Ship of Dreams". Perhaps that was where she belonged.

Turning to the stairwell again, Cal sighed. He would learn to forget her… He would somehow erase from his mind the rare sight of how her blue eyes would sparkle like precious sapphires when she was happy; her laugh obnoxious and her smile as radiant as the sun, a warmth he suddenly realized he had not felt in weeks, months... How she always brought the smell of French lavender into every room, how much she loved to dance and how she admired those God _awful_ paintings of hers, spending hours just staring at the lines and colors, searching for a meaning… Her fiery spirit had branded him, she had left scars no other woman could ever heal… Yes, he would forget. But it wouldn't be until his dying breath if he could help it.

But then, a stranger wrapped in a checkered blanket caught his eye as he began to climb back to the upper decks. Her face wasn't visible to him, but he could see strands of scraggly, auburn hair poking out from beneath the layers cocooning her. He knew it could be anyone but still his breath hitched in his throat, his palms suddenly slick with sweat as he paused and slowly stepped towards the mysterious woman.

If it _wasn't_ her he would look like a fool.

But if it _was_ her… He would have to drag her back home, kicking and screaming, to trap her into a marriage that would fall to the mercy of misery.

He didn't know if it was worth it.

Taking a breath, he decided to call out to the stranger.

"Rose?"

His voice cracked with emotion as he spoke. It seemed he was making himself look foolish after all.

A moment passed. Then another. He was growing impatient. He wondered if the woman was deaf.

"Rose?" he repeated louder.

Finally, she turned to face him. Cal felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach.

"What do you want from me?"

He could feel the bile rising in his throat.

"Y-You're alive…"

"Yes."

He wondered if she had anything else to say to him.

Looking around them, Cal could find no sign of Dawson.

"Where is - " he began despite the obvious conclusion, watching Rose's eyes cloud up momentarily with tears. He could see that she was willing herself not to cry on his account.

"I see…" Cal chuckled. This would be more entertaining than he had anticipated.

Rose turned back away from him, not wishing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her so tired, so vulnerable. She had already lost enough - she would not lose her dignity.

"I'm not going back; don't ask me to." she whispered as she felt Cal's dark, cynical eyes on her back, his gaze sending shivers to her core.

"And what is it that you plan to do instead?" he sneered, "I'm sure there are plenty of dark street corners in the city where you could whore yourself…"

Rose felt her body numb. In the back of her mind she knew she wouldn't survive a single day on her own. She had no money, no connections, no experience… Any man would be ignoring his animal instinct to refuse the opportunity to defile such a young, beautiful woman alone in the city - all for the setback of just a couple of dollars.

He had a point.

 _I'd rather be his whore than your wife!_

God, she'd been naive…

Turning back to meet his gaze Rose felt as if she was going to be sick. Cal offered her his hand with a satisfied smirk. Taking it, she shuddered, his cold skin against hers reminding her of the bleak future ahead.

xXx

 _ **Four days later: April 19th, 1912**_

 **Philadelphia, Pennsylvania - The Dewitt Bukater estate**

It had been days since Rose had had the luxury to be alone. She'd been given dry clothes, a warm bed, hot meals… But never a moment to breathe. Ever since Cal had trapped her in his grasp once again, she had been under the watchful eyes of him and her mother. They were always there, lurking in the corner, observing her every move, just _daring_ her to try to escape again. There were no loose bars in her cage - not this time.

Slipping into the hot bath that had been prepared for her, she sighed blissfully as the warm water encapsulated her tired body. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against the wall of the tub, enjoying the fleeting moments she had to herself. But before she could think of anything else, images flooded her memory. Frozen, lifeless bodies bobbed around her in the frigid, black night, their faces ghastly. She could feel the ice on her skin, burning, tearing at her flesh… She saw Jack sinking to the bottom of the Atlantic, his handsome face vanishing from ever seeing the light of day...

Snapping her eyes open again, Rose felt hot tears on her cheeks, her shoulders hunched over as she sobbed…

 _Jack_

If only he could see her now: shot down and hung on the wall like a hunter's trophy…

She had broken his promise and now she would die here, her fire burned out, stuck in this suffocating world of glittering diamonds and facades… She would spend her days trotting at Cal's heels while he was branded the genius, a master of his realm while she was simply his _wife_ , something else he had managed to conquer, brainwash into the ever submissive subject.

She had to get out. She _would_ die here, perhaps driving herself mad. She'd jump off of a balcony, impale herself with a hatpin… Or better yet maybe Cal would lock her away, unwilling to have his pristine reputation tied to tragedy.

Climbing out of the tub she knew that he was the only one she had to fool. Her mother would only show her distress until she was handed over the right amount of money to make her forget her darling daughter all together. But Cal… He was smarter than she gave him credit for…

He had manipulated her from the moment he set eyes on her; charming her with his serpent tongue, the dark pieces of the puzzle stashed away... He was the perfect human weapon, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. If she got caught? He would destroy her. If she didn't? A shiver snaked its way up her spine. He would eventually.

She would have to be careful.

xXx

Cal could see that the stars were beginning to vanish, the sky creeping closer to another day… It had to be at least four in the morning… He was still awake, lying on his bed, his shirt half-open, nursing a bottle of whiskey - stolen from the private stash of his late father-in-law, Mr. Theodore Dewitt Bukater. He had to admit, the man had good taste. Such a pity he had been a horrible businessman and an even worse gambler. Cal smirked to himself, too tired to muster a frown at his drunken musings.

He sighed heavily, the room spinning around him in a chaotic blur. He couldn't sleep. Of course he never could but tonight was… different. He couldn't stop thinking about her… With _Dawson_ … The name made his mind feel rotten… Holding back the bile rising in his throat Cal couldn't get it out of his head how that scum had put his hands on her, kissed her lips, drawn her the vile way he had… Cal could feel his anger burning again, his temples pounding and his hands trembling with rage as he pictured the way her eyes had taunted him through the paper, her seductive curves a prize that was to be out of reach, never to be won…

 _I always win, Jack, one way or another…_

Cal took another swig from the bottle. Nothing came out. It was empty.

" _Goddammit_!" he cursed as he threw it down, watching it crash onto the floor in a million pieces.

Burying his face in his hands, he sighed. Sitting upright from the bed, he tripped over his feet as he lazily made his way out of the room, his mouth dry for more liquor. One bottle wasn't going to be enough for him; not for tonight.

xXx

Rose crept quietly along the wall as she made her way down the back stairs only the servants used, her heart pounding. She had seen the light under Cal's door as she had passed by. He was awake.

She entered the kitchen, grabbing some fresh fruit and loaf of bread still in its wrapping. She placed them gently in the carpet bag she clutched in her sweating palm and started for the door that would finally lead her to her freedom that she had always craved.

"Going somewhere, sweetpea?" a voice behind her crooned into the quiet night.

Rose froze in her tracks, her blood running cold, her breath suddenly caught in her throat. She was as good as dead. Frozen, her gaze landed on the butcher knife lying on the counter only feet away…

Turning around, she faced Cal. A smirk played on his lips, a decanter of brandy gripped in his hand. A typical sight.

"If you're going to run away, at least don't make it so obvious…" he continued, stepping forward, his dark eyes glistening with malice, his angular features saturated in the moonlight cascading in through the window. Her heart thundered with fear in her chest.

"I-I'm not running away…"

"God, you're so _stupid_ , Rose… You think that you can just _leave_? And that you'll _survive_?" Cal mocked in his drunken stupor as he approached her, "You don't have any money or connections. I know that you'll come _crawling_ back. But don't expect me to be so charitable the next time around, you ungrateful bitch…"

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Cal." she snapped with defiance as she cleared her throat, reaching into her bag and pulling out the Heart of the Ocean, its dazzling, blue facets glittering on the walls around them.

Cal's eyes widened, his gaze a little unfocused as he lunged for it. Rose moved away, causing him to spill the amber liquor onto his freshly cleaned shirt.

"Why you little…" he muttered angrily, glaring daggers at Rose who had already stashed away the necklace. "Aren't you going to give me back what's rightfully mine?"

"Why should I return a gift that was given to me?"

Chuckling to himself, Cal leaned against a nearby doorframe, examining his fiance closely as if her standing in front of him was all part of a strange dream and if he looked away she would vanish any second.

But he did look away. And Rose remained, crossing her arms over her chest in a pathetic excuse to look threatening. Cal couldn't help but sneer.

"Go back to bed, Rose." he sighed, his head throbbing knowing that she wouldn't listen to him.

"You don't control me, Cal…" Rose whispered, narrowing her eyes as she stalked past him, back to her prison, grasping at the last of her dignity.

"Clearly I do!" Cal shouted back, his booming voice even surprising him in the sudden stillness surrounding him.

He stood for awhile, waiting for Rose to return and further challenge him, occasionally sipping on the brandy in his hand, feeling it burn down his throat as he swallowed in hurried gulps, desperate for the comfort of unconsciousness. He didn't know how long he waited, but the liquor disappeared from the decanter. And so had Rose, slipping through his fingertips into the bleariness of the night.


	2. 2

It was a week before the wedding. Such perfect timing.

"She's with child, about a month along…" the doctor had stated, his eyes flitting about nervously.

Cal had only smirked at him, shoving a considerable amount of cash into his palm before he escorted him to the door, warning him with dark eyes the confidentiality of the situation at hand.

Once he was gone, he turned to Ruth who had paled at the announcement.

"What do we do?' she whispered meekly, afraid that Cal would storm out of the mansion at any moment, leaving her and Rose to the mercy of the streets.

For a moment, he said nothing. Of course he had had no doubts that his fiance had acted promiscuously with the filth she had only known for two days, but the fact that she would bear his child delivered a blow to his ego he had not expected. Swallowing his pride, Cal knew that the wedding would resume. His rightful inheritance was so close he could taste it. Rose would be his bride, even if she was an ungrateful whore. She would simply deal with the consequences for her actions at a more convenient time for the both of them.

Turning his gaze to Ruth again, he grinned viciously, "The wedding is still on, without any doubts. I will deal with this little...upset…when a more appropriate time arrives…"

Cal saw relief wash over her face; the color return to her cheeks. Anyone would be a complete idiot to not know that she was using him for his money. Normally, he would never be so charitable. But for her darling daughter, he would give the world and more.

God, he was a fool.

Excusing himself he climbed the stairs to Rose's room, his shoes suddenly feeling as if they'd been filled with lead. He didn't bother knocking as he entered, letting out a scoff as he watched Rose scramble to cover herself as she sat at her vanity in her nightgown.

Cal wondered to himself what he could possibly say to the woman in front of him.

He knew how the conversation would play out: he would berate her for being the child she was and then he would only be compared to Dawson and be reminded with an icy harshness that he was loathed by the woman who, in a week, would be his wife. A cynical sneer appeared on his face as he basked in the dreary revelation.

He approached Rose, setting his hands on her delicate shoulders. He felt her tense beneath his touch.

"You know, this was how it was supposed to be...It was supposed to be us…" Cal mused as he admired his reflection in the mirror; the two of them together.

Rose's eyes flashed nervously as they met his.

"It wasn't supposed to be that you betrayed me, Rose…" he continued, his nails digging subconsciously into her porcelain skin as he tried to control his rising anger.

Rose yelped in pain as she tore herself away from him, red marks branding her shoulders.

"No amount of nostalgia will make me change my mind, Cal…"

"Oh?"

He waited for her to continue, for her tongue to douse him in its flames. Instead, she remained silent as she stared out the window, a hand rested gently on her abdomen. The tenderness of the scene made Cal feel ill.

"You'd better be out of your damn mind if you think I'll raise Dawson's bastard, Rose..." he continued passively as he lit a cigarette, watching her turn to him with a frown. A sense of gnarled giddiness filled him.

"Then it seems I no longer need your assistance, Mr. Hockley." she replied plainy, avoiding his gaze.

Cal laughed, the dark sound swallowing the afternoon light streaming in through the window as if the sun had been covered by a storm cloud.

"The wedding is still on without a doubt, Rose. The company is practically in my hands and a marriage certificate seals the deal. You will be my bride regardless of the current consequences of your actions…" He paused, suddenly feeling generous. "Of course you have the choice to leave. I won't hold you here like a prisoner… "

Approaching Rose, he continued, blowing smoke into her stony face with every condescending word. She wanted to vomit. "Just know that you'll be ruined. Everyone will know what a dirty, little slut you are before you can even set foot from this house… Because I will not have the filth of your mistakes on my hands!"

"This child wasn't a mistake…" she whispered meekly in reply, "The mistake is that I didn't run when I still had the chance..."

Where are you going? To him? To be a whore to a gutter rat?

She saw Cal's eyes flash with something almost hurtful at her words before his gaze turned lethal with a morbid obsidian glow. Rose felt her breathing quicken, fear paralyzing her. She knew his breaking points and he was dangerously close to losing all control.

She was taken back as he simply turned for the door, hissing with a final malevolent glance, his tongue serpentine, "You'll learn to be grateful if you expect that thing to live…"

xXx

The house was empty - except for the two of them.

Rose didn't dare meet Cal's eyes as she sat across from him, sipping her afternoon tea. She watched his anger simmering and stewing into a lethal concoction in his dark gaze. She could feel that he was focused on her, seconds too long… She had never felt so filthy.

"It seems your engagement ring has gone missing…" Cal snarled as he looked over Rose with narrowed eyes, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Tactically, she knew there was nothing she could say to him to please him in that moment. Offering him a smile she hoped that would suffice.

Tutting under his breath, Cal shook his head. Smashing his cigarette into a nearby ashtray, he stood, turning to look out the window at the falling rain outside.

"Perhaps your precious gutter rat tried to steal that too…" He chuckled to himself, suddenly amused.

He saw Rose flinch out of the corner of his eye. Approaching her, he observed how her shoulders tensed, how her breath hitched in her throat…

How dare she put up walls around him, give him tight-lipped smiles, say everything in that god-awful syrupy sweet voice of hers… She had never let him know how she really felt… And rather than open her heart to him as he had been so foolish to beg her for she had whored herself to that boy she had barely even known… She was an ungrateful slut and he had been foolish to give her another chance, make the same sacrifices again…

Cal felt something inside him snap… Or perhaps it had just clicked right into place…

His head was swimming, boiling with malice…

He almost wanted to smack her.

And then he did.

Rose felt the sting of Cal's hand on her cheek, the sheer force of his touch knocking her off of the couch, her teacup that had been in her hands crashing to the floor, the delicate porcelain shattered... Her forehead collided with the merciless mahogany of the coffee table, blood spilling from a fresh wound, staining the rug a deep red…

And then his hands were on her throat, his eyes wild with hate as he shoved her against the wall. The room shook as Rose's eyes clouded over with tears, she tried desperately to breathe, to scream…

But the house was empty - except for the two of them.

With all of the strength in him, Cal brought a fist against Rose's abdomen… Again… and again… and again… He felt her struggling against him weaken with each blow, her face turning a sickly shade of blue…

He wanted it gone, destroyed, reduced to a miserable puddle on the floor…

That filth would never let him lose… Not again…

I always win Jack, one way or another…

Rose felt the life draining from her slowly, her tears staining her cheeks, the taste of salt in her mouth…

If she was to die now, she would be glad… She would be with him again… They would have the life they had promised eachother…

There was a light approaching her, Jack's face coming so close she thought she could grasp it, feel his skin against hers again… She mirrored his smile…

And with her final breath her eyes snapped open.

The room around her was dark, sweat covering her in a dingy blanket…

It had been a dream… Only a dream…

Rose sighed with relief, placing a hand protectively against her stomach.

For now, they were safe.


	3. 3

_Rose sighed as she stared up at the night sky adorned with sparkling stars. The faint melody of a waltz had followed her out to the terrace and she found herself swaying softly to the music, lost in her own thoughts, enjoying the fresh, night air…_

 _She could hardly say she was enjoying herself so far this evening. The gossip was stale and the dance partners clumsy. She longed to be anywhere but the MacGregor's ballroom… Perhaps tucked away next to the fire with a book her mother would surely disapprove of… She sighed again, longing to fulfill her defiant daydream, her shoulders slumping with boredom._

" _Are you lost?" a deep, smooth voice said behind her suddenly, making her jump in surprise._

 _Facing her intruder, Rose raised an eyebrow in annoyance. It was a man, perhaps only coming to ask her to dance as dozens had done before him. Little did he know she was tired of getting her toes stepped on._

" _I beg your pardon?"_

 _He chuckled at her snappy reply, oozing arrogance. Rose narrowed her eyes, observing him. Despite her mild disgust she had to admit the man before her was quite good looking: dressed in a perfectly tailored tuxedo; tall with sharp, masculine features, dark hair and shining, charcoal eyes. He had probably never known a woman to be so rude to him a day in his life._

" _You do realize the party is_ inside, _yes?" he continued, amused._

 _Rose was getting irritated._

" _Who are_ you _to tell me where I am supposed to be?"_

 _The man approached her, still smiling, his gaze simmering with something she couldn't quite place… As he grasped her gloved hand to kiss it she felt herself shiver at his surprisingly cold touch._

" _Caledon Hockley… if you must know…" he purred, watching her closely as her cheeks began to redden._

 _Rose felt her stomach drop. She had heard that name before; the nasty rumors that went with it… Her friends had chattered on about him, told her what a horrible playboy he was, how filthy_ rich _he was… The girls at finishing school had fawned over him, threatening to faint if even his name was brought up in conversation…_

 _Rose had never expected that she would be the one to catch his interest._

 _She could feel her composure beginning to slip, her hard, indifferent exterior crumbling the longer she gazed back at him into those deep, captivating eyes…_

 _Refusing to become another mindless debutante she assumed her aloof persona once again, squaring her shoulders as she replied, "Rose DeWitt Bukater…"_

 _Around her, she could hear the music swell again and he motioned back to the ballroom, at the couples swirling gracefully in time to another waltz. Holding out his hand for her to take, he smirked, "Shall we?"_

 _Rose felt her knees weaken. Taking his hand hesitantly, she allowed herself to be swept away by him, his touch sending a surprisingly pleasant shiver down her spine._

Rose shuddered, snapping out of her daydream as she heard her mother's shrill voice behind her, "Oh, darling, you look so beautiful!"

She couldn't manage to share her excitement. She only fidgeted in her gown, struggling to breathe in her tightly laced corset. No one would find out about her condition until after the marriage license was signed. Cal would make sure of that.

"The ceremony will be starting soon," Ruth continued eagerly, motioning to the bridesmaids trailing her to help carry her daughter's extensive train. "Let's get in place, ladies!"

Rose nodded, taking the deepest breath possible. Walking towards the doors to the church where everyone was already seated her thoughts flitted momentarily to Jack, their encounter in the gym…

 _I'm marrying Cal. I love Cal…_

If only he could see her now.

Feeling pressure building behind her eyes, she willed herself not to cry. If she did, they would be tears of joy on her wedding day.

Taking a step she wondered if she could still make a run for it…

Then the doors opened in front of her, revealing her to the eyes of hundreds. With the organ pounding in her ears Rose began making her way towards Cal with shaking legs. He was standing at the altar in his tuxedo, the vision of groomed perfection. His dark eyes were piercing, laced with undying suspicion and exhaustion. He was no happier about the occasion than she was.

The guests shuffled in their seats with delight as Rose glided past them, her white gown casting an ethereal glow about the magnificent cathedral. To all, she was a symbol of unworldly purity and grace. Of course no one would ever know about Jack Dawson. He was a secret Rose would keep tucked deep within her memory - a place where nothing or no one could take him away from her again.

Approaching Cal, he took her hand in his, his touch hard and possessive. Meeting his eyes, she could sense something stirring in them, something almost...hopeful. But it slipped away as soon as it had appeared, his composed facade resurfacing once again.

This was nothing more to him than a simple business transaction.

The epiphany made Rose shudder.

The vows were meaningless, the words "I do" lingering in the church with an echo… The ceremony whirled past, as if it hadn't been real at all… Rose had always pictured her wedding day to be… different.

The only solid detail she could remember was when Cal leaned in to kiss her. As his lips met hers, she ached to feel any sort of emotion, longed for any bit of passion in his touch as there had been once… But he only placed a stiff hand on her back as he pulled her close to him and brushed his lips against hers quickly as if he was trying not to waken the painful memories between them…

God forbid he felt something for once.

 **xXx**

 _She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen._

 _From against the wall of the MacGregor's ballroom he studied her out on the veranda; her feminine, smooth features; delicate as a porcelain doll… Her fiery, auburn curls swept up in the perfect chignon, her tempestuous curves accentuated by her lavish gown that was begging to be discarded, ravished by his touch…_

 _Cal couldn't take his eyes off of her. He hadn't been able to all evening._

 _He had watched her dance with other men throughout the evening, watched her shrug them off without further interest once the music had stopped. He had felt his chest choke up with jealousy at the sight, his mind mad with the prospect of having_ her…

 _His friends had laughed when he declared the idea, told him he was insane to even think of taming the wild beast that was Rose Dewitt Bukater..._

 _Draining his champagne glass he stepped outside into the cool, night air._

 _He enjoyed a challenge every now and then._

Cal frowned as Rose separated herself from her place on his arm, vanishing with a huff into the sea of people surrounding them.

Her performance throughout the reception so far had scarcely been satisfactory. She was detached, her smile lackluster and her handshake limp. People had approached him, wondering if his beautiful bride has feeling well. He had reassured them she was simply overwhelmed by the festivities. They lapped up every word, nodding in sympathy. They would believe anything. They were idiots.

The woman in front of him, the wife of some business associate whose name he had already forgotten, wouldn't stop rambling on about the ceremony, the flower arrangements or something… Cal smiled brilliantly at her, her irrelevant thoughts subdued by his charm momentarily. Before the woman could open her mouth again Cal excused himself with a nod and he slipped off into the crowd.

He spotted Rose on the balcony, gazing off into the distance amongst the flowers, the jewels on her white gown glittering dully; a melancholy dream in the afternoon sunlight. Shaking his head he stepped outside into the heat, champagne in hand. He could feel a migraine coming on.

Without a chance to open his mouth Rose whirled around to face him, frustrated tears clouding up her eyes, "Can't you leave me be for even a _moment_?"

Cal didn't respond. He watched her with an arched brow as he drained his drink from its chilled glass. She was on the verge of an hysterical tantrum. As he stepped towards her she backed away, crossing her arms over her chest, jutting out her chin defiantly in an attempt to look menacing.

He wondered with a chuckle if she ever acted her age.

Setting down his glass he advanced on her with the tactical approach of capturing a feral cat. He felt her struggle against his touch as he laced an arm around her waist, the other cupping her face. He knew all of her hissing and scratching was for show. But looking into her eyes he could find nothing but malice.

Frowning, he let go of her. He had hoped to find something else.

Rose stayed put, her gaze stony.

He couldn't remember the last time he had seen her smile.

"Dance with me." Cal spoke suddenly, reaching for her hand.

" _What_?"

"You heard what I said…" he sighed, not wishing to cause a scene, "Don't make me repeat myself…"

He watched as her face shifted in confusion, stunned by his sporadic request.

Rose hesitated for a moment before taking his hand, allowing him to lead her back inside just as another waltz was striking up.

As he placed a hand on the small of her back Cal felt her stiffen, her breath catch in her throat. As they swirled in time to the music he craved to see that flame return to her eyes, shine like they used to...

He knew how much she loved to dance.

He had asked her to just _hoping_ for a flicker of joy to pass through her, remind her of a simpler time.. But as he looked at her he swore he smelt smoke, catching a whiff of a fire freshly smothered.


	4. 4

**a/n: hey y'all! i'm backkk! i know there was a bit of a delay with updating this chapter bc a)i had been on vacation and b)school just started again so i'm pretty busy rn.** **BUT i'm here now and i hope this chapter was worth the wait!**

 **i think, by this point, is where it's starting to get good (at least in my opinion lol). from here on out, there's gonna be new content since this is technically the last chapter of the "rewritten" chapters and before this chapter it was mostly the obligatory filler stuff that was the wedding, cal/rose getting back together, etc. but now i really hope you guys start to get invested in this story bc angst and drama are comin' your way folks and there's nothing you can do to stop me :P**

 **i hope you all enjoy and reviews are always welcome ! xxx**

* * *

Cal didn't know how many hours he had sat in the comforting darkness of his study, how many shots of brandy he'd had... Images swirled around him in a carnival of chaotic confusion, the cathartic events of the day repeating themselves in his mind over and over and over again in a sickening parade… Rose's pale face, the dirty blood on her hands, her nightgown stained a deathly crimson, the tears scarring her hollowed, wailing cheeks…

His head was pounding.

The child was gone.

Cal chuckled to himself morbidly, relishing in the revelation that would change everything by the time dawn broke and Rose was out of medication to douse her in sleep…

Things had become so frightfully simple. The filth was out of the picture. It had been easy. Almost _too_ easy…

For a moment, Cal wondered if that was what he truly wanted.

Deep down, a part of him knew that there wasn't a future with Rose beyond stony stares and petulant arguments. She was nothing but a ghost,evaporating from him when she wasn't needed to decorate his arm.

Pouring himself another shot glass of his poison, Cal couldn't help but to feel nostalgic...

He could still feel that cold, December night when he had held her in his arms, the sweat of their lovemaking still slick in his brow… He remembered how she had shivered with delight when he had touched her delicate, smooth skin, moaned with pleasure when he pressed his lips on hers…

Knocking back the drink, he pondered with gnarled joy as the liquor burned down his throat if Dawson had been able to please her like a _real_ man…

A laugh escaped him and it rang like a bitter bell through the hollowness of the house. He had been a damn fool to think she would've ever been his.

She would never belong to anyone except that _gutter rat_...

No matter how hard he tried she would always be out of his reach, her heart a guarded, wandering thing that would never find its home with him…

He snapped his eyes shut, his head suddenly throbbing; on the verge of a sickening migraine.

He felt like he was going to vomit.

Standing from his desk, he stepped outside to the balcony. The night sky was clear, the moonlight cascading its shadows across the sprawling gardens before him, the aroma of the summer flowers wafting through the warm breeze made the bile rise in his throat.

His thoughts drifted back to his wife, sleeping on the other side of the mansion, her head filled with catastrophic dreams.

Cal had always blocked out her screams in the night; her terrified sobs. He pretended not to notice how she rarely spoke to him, her voice stolen from her by her nightmares, her eyes red and puffy from the tears she cried when she was alone, away from his sinister stare. He tried as hard as he could to ignore her, to brush off her fears as childish. But there was always a desperation in her eyes that he couldn't unsee. At night, he would lie awake, drowning in her helplessness, his head swimming with his own frenzy to escape the monsters clawing at the back of his throat.

No, this wasn't what he wanted. This isn't what he had wanted at all.

 **xXx**

Nathaniel Hockley didn't smile. Not without reason.

With anxiety gnawing in his stomach, Cal was none too eager figure out why his father had such a smug grin on his face now.

"My boy! How are you?" Nathan greeted, standing from behind his desk to clap his son on the back.

Cal offered his own half-hearted smile, finding that he couldn't share in his father's suspiciously good mood. He hoped he couldn't feel him flinch beneath his suit jacket.

"I can't complain…"

"And that pretty, little wife of yours, how's her condition coming along?"

Cal's eyebrows shot up as he took a seat. There was a twinkle in the eye of the man in front of him he couldn't quite place. He could feel his nerves beginning to unravel.

"I wasn't aware that I told you about th-"

"It's a business man's job to know _everything_ , Caledon…" Nathan interrupted, shaking his head at his son as he took a sip of his cognac, "I have my sources…"

Ruth. _Of course._

Cal scoffed, hopefully masking the fear that was burning in his eyes. His heart pounded furiously against his ribcage as he pondered what his father would do to him now that he held the fateful knowledge that his beloved Rose was carrying a bastard.

Or, at least, _had_ been.

"But I must admit, she didn't look too well the other evening at dinner…" the elder continued, "Looks like she had lost some weight if you ask me…"

 _You have no idea_ … Cal thought to himself sadistically, an uncomfortable chuckle fumbling through his lips as he tried to remember to breathe.

"Well, father, it's nothing to worry about… It seems the situation is no longer a problem, to put it lightly."

He smiled triumphantly. Or at least attempted to.

Silently, his chest ached for some sort of approval. Some sort of validation that for once in his life he was more than a disappointment in his father's cold, steely gaze for doing something _right_ for a change…

But with just a simple nod, Nathan's smile vanished as soon as it had appeared. And a familiar shiver made its way down Cal's spine as an icy glare was expertly tossed in his direction.

He watched as his father stood, the smoke of his freshly-lit cigar trailing behind him in a pungent cloud as he crossed to the window, a disdained frown abundant amongst the bitter lines of his face.

"Are you aware that the 'Heart of the Ocean' is missing?" Nathan said into the stillness of the room, his voice frighteningly calm.

Cal froze, his knuckles deathly pale as he gripped the sides of his chair as he tried to resist running away, trying to catch his breath as he felt himself gasping for air, drowning in the failure that he was.

"Yes, I am…" he finally sputtered out, cursing himself for the way his voice was shaking.

Nathan scoffed, the dispassionate sound shaking Cal to his core.

"And I suppose you're the one responsible for this tragic loss?"

"Father, I-"

" _Shut up,_ " he snapped, facing his son again with a disgusted snarl on his face, "Just answer the question, _dammit_!"

Cal's mind reeled. His father was right. Of _course_ he was. Naturally, he had kept the diamond safe, obsessed over it, even… Only to lose it again in a moment of impulsive rage.

But he would never let him know that...

"Well, yes, it is _partially_ my fault, I suppose…"

A thunderous laugh exploded around Cal. The storm roaring outside could scarcely compare.

" _Partially_? Do you realize that necklace had cost me _millions_?" Nathan guffawed, trying to control his bubbling amusement, "And for what? A wife that _despises_ you!"

Standing, Cal tried to brush off the stab his ego had just received. Smiling weakly he joined his father at the window, staring out at the rain that was pounding against the pane rather violently.

For second a brambled thought prickled its way into his mind: he could easily smash his head against the glass, disposing of him within seconds as he had fantasized of doing all years.

One inconvenience had been cleared for him as of late. It wouldn't hurt to get rid of another.

And after all, his father was well-past his glory days. His once good looks were weathered away by years of bitterness and the doctor had already advised that he retire for his "health".

In this world of glittering diamonds and vicious grins it was survival of the fittest. And it was long overdue for the new king to take the throne.

"I put _you_ with the responsibility to recover the necklace, Caledon," Nathan continued, snapping his son out of his wasteful daydream, "The only way you shall receive proper insurance for the thing is to prove it is intact…"

"Father, it's on the _bottom of the Atlantic_!"

"-And that's only a minor setback!"

Anger simmered in Cal, his fingers vibrating with an ache to strangle the man in front of him. Maybe he would finally see that he was more than a disappointment when he was begging for his life.

The thought alone brought a gnarled grin to his face.

But it quickly vanished when he saw the malicious sneer his father was giving him.

Helplessness sank into his bones, his shoulders heavy. If the diamond had truly perished along with the ship there was no hope of finding it.

Massaging his temples he tried to think of _any_ possibility that the priceless gem was still intact… Perhaps it had survived the sinking… He knew that if it truly had Rose would never admit it, let alone give it back to him… He knew she liked watching him suffer, his head ill with chaos, drowning himself in liquor…

But, between his doubts, there was something that danced in the back of his mind, a blur of a memory taunting him, a fragment of a night that seemed so far away yet so close at the same time… There were flashes of dazzling, blue facets dancing around him, a steely gaze, the bitter taste of bourbon…

It had to be his migraine, his vision beginning to play cruel tricks on him…

"I don't give a _damn_ what you have to do or who you have to hunt down," Nathan started again, smashing the remainder of his cigar into a nearby ashtray.

Cal thought that perhaps he would leave for once free of any injuries. But before he could exit his father whirled around to face him, grabbing him roughly by the lapel of his jacket, snarling with utter contempt, the dangerous bite of brandy on his breath, "Just _figure it out_ …"

Cal nodded, knowing better than to argue with the hands that knew discipline.

As he watched him walk away he cursed under his breath.

Picking up the nearby decanter, he poured himself a generous shot of liquor, gulping it down just to feel it burn. With a sigh he collected his coat, storming out of the study, slamming shut the front door, not caring if it flew off the hinges.

He knew he was damned.

He smirked to himself as he sat in the car home, he watched the night streets passing him by, the silkiness of the dark bringing about a warm comfort in the cool, June air…

He would think of something. He always did.

The idea of losing anything more than he already had in the last months was amusing beyond belief. He couldn't care less.

He made his own luck, after all.

 **xXx**

"Shouldn't you still be in bed, resting?" Cal sneered as he leaned against the doorframe of the sunroom, frowning at the bright scene in front of him.

"The doctor said it would be perfectly fine for me to get some fresh air once I felt up to it." Rose responded, shrugging him off as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear, concentrating on turning the page of the book she was so invested in.

"Rose, it's barely been two days-"

"-I'm _fine_!"

Cal knew she was lying. He watched, sipping his coffee, as she struggled to sit up straight, her face contorting subtley in pain as she moved ever so carefully.

He sighed, turning his gaze upwards to the ceiling, "Why must you be so stubborn?"

Rose locked her eyes with her husband from across the room, smiling at him with a syrupy sort of sweetness.

"I'm only following orders. Isn't that what you want for me to do, darling?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Cal groaned inwardly. This argument was doing everything but helping his brutal hangover. His head was throbbing, his vision melding into a kaleidoscope of confused colors that only came along with the beginning of a merciless migraine.

"I'm not in the mood for this, Rose…"

Returning to her book, she yawned, feigning exhaustion. "Then leave me be."

Cal closed his eyes for a moment, hoping to cease the increasing intensity of his headache; fighting the overwhelming urge to strike the woman in front of him. Stepping towards Rose, he could feel the calmness in his voice beginning to waver.

"Aren't you going to have some breakfast at least?"

She flashed her eyes at him, disgust simmering in her gaze. "I'm not hungry…"

"You'll have to eat eventually you know… Unless, of course, you plan on starving yourself to death... " Cal responded flatly, irritation flickering across his face.

Rose chuckled, "Well, I suppose that doesn't sound so bad…"

Cal only rolled his eyes. _She was a fool_.

"I heard what the doctor said to you when I woke up," she began again as she shot Cal a dark look, "He said that the circumstances of the miscarriage seemed 'suspicious'..."

Cal scoffed, trying not to notice how her voice shook with emotion as she spoke, the tears she was trying to hold back... "You don't know what you heard, Rose. You were very heavily sedated..."

"I _do_ know! I'm not an idiot!"

He dismissed her, sipping his coffee again, "I never said you were, dear..."

She was.

Staring at him for a moment, Rose waited for him to continue,for him to berate her with insults about what an absolutely _absurd_ child she was being… But he just stood there, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, as if everything she was saying was an inconvenience.

Then something clicked.

"You wanted this baby gone, you wanted every trace of Jack destroyed!" she whispered suddenly, all of the pieces suddenly falling into place… "You did this… Didn't you?"

Her head was spinning as she gazed at Cal once more, hoping that perhaps he would give himself away, his dark eyes telling her the morbid truth of why he had really let her keep Jack's baby… Just to get rid of it when it was convenient to him…

 _You'll learn to be grateful if you expect that thing to live…_

The vision of his disgusted sneer swam in her mind, she felt her stomach turn violently…

She almost didn't want him to reply.

But Cal just blinked at her, shaking his head as he turned on his heel. He almost felt sorry for her sanity.

 **xXx**


	5. 5

**A/N: Hey everyone !**

 **I'm FINALLY back with a new chapter for all of you ! I'm so sorry it took so long, my ADHD, my perfectionism, and my first year of college all decided to gang up on me and I have no clue how I've managed to do anything these past few months, really. But here is some fresh content for all of you (and as Gordon Ramsey would say "finally, some good fucking food" :P) and I really hope you enjoy ! Honestly, these next few chapters are just gonna be filler and boring until I can get to the actual chapter about Cal's inheritance and all that blah but, nevertheless, I promise I'll try to keep them interesting.**

 **Also a little random tidbit: my fancast for Nathan is Robert Taylor (the old Hollywood actor, not the Aussie one :P). I honestly see such a resemblance between him and Billy and he also has that evil-ish look to him, I hope all of you will agree :P**

 **As always, reviews are cherished and treated with lots of love. So happy to be back. Happy reading :))**

* * *

It was the first day in some time that Cal had actually left her alone.

He hadn't been sitting across from her at the breakfast table like he usually was, with a raised eyebrow, anxiously looking up from his newspaper every few seconds to see if she was still there, almost as if he was waiting for her to evaporate into thin air.

He wasn't lurking over her shoulder, ready to pounce on her like a house cat, scolding her about what she was wearing, what she wasn't supposed to be reading… There was no exaggerated roll of his eyes when she told him she had declined yet _another_ tea party or needlepoint society invitation, no scoffing when she complained about the other ladies in their circle…

He didn't tell her she was being ridiculous, didn't even _try_ to make any comebacks from her petty mockeries or remarks.

She knew she was making him look bad. She knew what people were saying about her, how she was the perfect, little bride gone recluse… For weeks she had successfully avoided attending any social events by simply feigning a headache and locking herself in her room.

In the beginning, Cal had violently protested, even threatened to have the door removed. " _Be dressed in ten minutes - or else!"_ he had raged at her one particularly scorching afternoon in June when they were running late to a garden party. But the ten minutes had passed, and then ten more... And when Rose crept downstairs again seeking out some dinner or even one of the kinder servants to talk to, Cal was gone and a passive-aggressive note addressed to her was in his place.

The next morning he would glare at her over coffee as he nursed his hangover and she would only smile at him as he stormed out the door in a huff.

He never really told her where he was going. He just spat out excuses when she asked with an exasperated sigh and the slam of a door, chiding her for even questioning him in the first place.

It was as if he had given up trying to control her. Rose was almost disappointed about it. For a moment she wondered if he was having an affair.

But then she realized she wouldn't have cared enough if he was.

In her life now it seemed there was nothing she truly cared about. Her little game with Cal of push and pull, fire and ice, had been the only enjoyment in her daily routine. But now that was gone too it seemed. She was a Hockley wife. There wasn't a more dreary existence.

With a sigh, she returned back to the magazine she had been half-heartedly paging through, eager to distract herself from the overwhelming emptiness she would never admit she felt in that moment.

The silence of the house around her was deafening. There were no creaking floorboards, not even the faint rustle of a curtain...

She felt as if she was trapped in a marble tomb, her pleas for help forever sealed by mortar and stone.

Rising from her spot on the sofa, she was all of a sudden suffocated with the urge to leave the library, running anywhere, desperate to get away from _here_. But sudden voices coming from the foyer stopped her in her tracks. It sounded like Cal. He must've returned home early. She felt her heart sink in her chest.

She was surprised when the door swung open to reveal her father-in-law instead, his composed presence wafting in the slightest breeze into the room.

As he approached her, his lips unfurled effortlessly into a blinding grin. Rose scarcely had a moment to process his unanticipated apparition before he swiftly grasped her hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. And, as suddenly uneasy as she was, she was oddly grateful for the unexpected coolness of his touch.

"Rose, my dear..." Nathan crooned as he fixed his gaze on her with his dark, piercing stare, "How do you manage to stay ever so lovely - even in this despicable heat?"

Curating a small smile, she could only chuckle humbly in response as she found herself stepping awkwardly away from him.

So much so that, all of a sudden, she was losing her balance.

Nathan's reflexes were quicker. Luckily.

Taking a firm hold on her arm, he caught her just as she was about to tumble backwards into the coffee table.

"Why, Rose, you should be more careful about looking where you're going - especially in your delicate condition!" he tutted breathlessly as he let go of her, leading her to a nearby velvet couch.

Her eyes flashed nervously. "My condition?"

Raising his stare to meet hers, Nathan's eyebrows shot up, the glint in his eye suddenly tarnished, "I was informed that you're expecting, are you not?"

"No, I-" Rose began, her voice wavering only the slightest as she relished a moment too long in the memory of a baby that would never be born. Remembering where she was, she swallowed the lump at the base of her throat and sighed. "not anymore."

Suddenly the empathist, Nathan managed a sigh as well, "How unfortunate… But, you're still quite young, my dear, there are bound to be others..."

Standing, he crossed to the window, his tone hinting at something quite sinister.

"And yet to think I was so hopeful that an announcement could have been made at the upcoming gala in a couple of weeks…" he continued, his words drenched in venom… "Caledon's inheritance and the anticipation of an heir all in one evening…" Pacing around her, he flashed his eyes at her, coiling back, a serpent ready to strike his prey… Rose felt herself flinch, knowing that he could smell the fear seeping from her pores... But rather than attack, Nathan simply turned to her again with a curious tilt of his head, "Don't you agree?"

As if stunned, Rose could only manage a nod in reply.

"But, don't worry, you have _plenty_ of time ahead of you yet…" He reprised, brandishing his million-dollar grin once again and then, as if on cue, pulled his pocket watch from his coat, glancing nonchalantly down at the time. "Goodness, it seems that time has escaped me, do forgive me, but I must be on my way…"

"Certainly…" she began, pausing for a moment as she guided him out to the foyer, "Was there a message you wanted me to give Cal?"

"It seems I've forgotten what I needed to tell him, how clumsy of me…" he scoffed, his words smooth.

"I see…"

Reaching for the front door, Rose began to turn the lock but Nathan's cool touch stopped her once again and she felt herself jump as if shocked as he placed his hand on top of hers a bit too tightly, "My dear, do spare me and don't let him know I came by, I wouldn't want to look like a fool…"

Her lips fumbled out a chuckle, "Of course not…"

Loosening his hold on her, Nathan allowed her to open the door, letting in the afternoon sun drip into the house. Taking a step he began to make his way to his waiting car but before he went any further he turned to Rose one last time, a sinister smile on his face as he hissed, the sound crisp and dangerous, "Good."

 **xXx**

July 1904, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, the DeWitt Bukater Estate

 _He hated these stupid parties._

 _They were all the same: dazzling couples lazily waltzing about an ornate ballroom, flaunting flimsy smiles and wielding the sharpest pieces of gossip they could find, eager to win the vicious struggle to be on top, hungry to decimate with simply a whisper of the right words._

 _Diamonds clung to vapid throats and black cigar smoke clogged the air in a dense, pretentious cloud. Piles of food were boastfully arranged on long banquet tables, a cornucopia of exotic foods: French pastries, Swiss chocolates, mangoes and papaya from Mexico… Of course it was all for show, God forbid anyone consume anything but glass after glass of imported champagne…_

 _Cal couldn't stand it._

 _He yanked with irritation at his tuxedo collar that was slowly strangling him, slick with a nervous sheath of sweat. Suddenly, he was out of breath, feeling as if he was going to collapse... The room around him was spinning, a toppling whirlwind of colors and smells that sent his senses into overdrive…_

 _He wasn't going to make it through the night._

 _He needed something to help him survive. Something that was a bit stronger than alcohol…_

 _Managing a small smile, he painfully pried himself off of the debutante who had been attempting rather aggressively to flirt with him and made his way out to the terrace. Lighting a cigarette, he sighed, watching the smoke curl into the air before it vanished._

 _If only he could do the same._

 _Sighing once more, he reached into the pocket of his jacket, producing a small, glass vile which he rolled nervously between his fingers for a long moment. Darting his eyes around him, he waited to confirm that he was truly alone before he lifted off the cap, hastily snorting a more than healthy amount of the white substance that had previously been inside into his left nostril._

 _The stinging sensation that he was left with sent a pleasant tingle throughout his entire body, the air around him suddenly clearer, as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes. He smiled a bit too gayly and began to stumble back into the ballroom, an uncharacteristic spring in his step as the sounds of the summer night buzzed around him in a comforting hum._

 _But a small voice reverberating from the gardenias stopped him._

" _What are you doing out here alone?" it peeped curiously._

 _Freezing in his tracks, Cal suddenly felt his heart beating furiously in his chest, he could hear the flow of his blood drumming with a thunderous anxiety through his limbs._

 _Maybe it was the drugs or maybe it was because his dirty little secret had just been found out. By a child._

 _He chuckled. Being frightened of a child. God, he was pathetic._

 _Turning to face his intruder, he could see it was indeed a child. A girl, actually. He wondered how much she had seen. He wondered if she had seen anything at all…_

 _She couldn't be more than nine years old. She was standing in front of him, barefoot in her nightgown which was now streaked with dirt, her fiery red curls a nest of knots littered with stray leaves and twigs, courtesy of her hiding place._

" _I suppose I could ask you the same question..." he said after a moment, hoping she couldn't tell that his voice was trembling._

" _I'm hiding from my governess, she doesn't know I'm not in bed, if Mother sees me out of my room the poor woman will be jobless by morning and that just means more freedom for me until Mother can find a new one..." she rambled on to herself in reply, hysterical with her own little hijinks, her heart-shaped face beaming with a mischievous innocence in the moonlight, "Who are you hiding from?" she continued after a pause, her eyes narrowing at him slightly, "You didn't answer my question…"_

 _Cal scoffed, trying to keep his best poker face intact. He had never done well with children. He had always tensed when he heard a baby crying, had avoided pregnant women and thoughts of fatherhood like the plague. But this one was clever. She could probably smell fear. He wouldn't be able to avoid her no matter how hard he tried._

" _No one, I'm hiding from no one," he finally managed to stutter through his discomfort, turning his back on her once more._

" _These parties are so silly," she continued, prattling on while Cal tried not to grit his teeth,  
_ " _Mother is always throwing them, I don't even know what this one is for…"_

 _Cal stopped and thought about it for a moment. He didn't know either._

 _All that he did know was that Thomas DeWitt Bukater was a dear friend of his father's - despite the fact he wasn't the brightest on the business end of things. He had heard the rumors of how much debt he was in, the way he was rapidly gambling away his fortune... He glanced over to the buffet table once again and scoffed._

 _He faced the girl again and smiled faintly. She was irritating him but at least she was far more interesting than any of the other guests waiting back inside. Of course the cocaine was doing some of the work for him as well, his senses a kaleidoscope of ever-changing colors and shapes that threatened to make him collapse in ecstasy._

" _Do you know how to dance like them? They all look so beautiful..." his companion chirped again, pointing at the couples swirling elegantly to Strauss._

 _Cal couldn't help but to laugh at himself. "Yes, I do…"_

 _The girl blushed, her cheeks a deep crimson all at once to match her hair, "Can you teach me?"_

 _Pondering it for a moment, he mulled over in his mind how ridiculous the proposition was. But then, without remembering how he had decided to do so, he was holding out his hand for her and she was taking it, her soft skin making him jump when he touched it._

 _Awkwardly, he shuffled his feet, making sure to avoid her bare ones._

 _Taking a step, he cleared his throat, "Well, first, you-"_

"We're here, Sir…" his driver announced all of a sudden, a little too jubilantly for Cal's taste… He couldn't help but suddenly feel a pang of annoyance, a frown permeating his face as he was pulled from his thoughts.

He nodded gruffly in response and pushed his way out of the vehicle, stepping out onto the muggy train station platform, storming off to find a face in the sudden sea of hundreds surrounding him.

Her red hair helped her stick out of the crowd. That and her obnoxiously sized hat sitting on top of it. Cal chuckled. She was certainly spending his money well.

Raising an arm he waved to catch her attention and immediately her icy blue stare settled on him, sending a jolt of unpleasantness up his spine.

As she made her way to him, Cal wiped the sweat from his brow, his lips setting themselves in a grim line.

"Hello, Ruth…" he choked out as she appeared at his feet, a mountain of parcels in tow.

She regally extended a dainty, gloved hand in reply, which Cal reluctantly leaned in to place a quick peck on, trying his best to avoid catching a whiff of her pungent, Parisian perfume which had most likely been spared no cost to acquire.

God, he despised her…

But disregarding the nauseous feeling crawling up his throat, he held out his elbow for her to take and she latched onto him, her talons digging in deep to his skin as he led her back to the car.

"Caledon, I hope that you have been well," she purred lethally as she slid ever so gracefully into the seat, "Rose scarcely mentioned you in her letter to me…"

He only smiled in a gentlemanly manner, hiding the unexpected blow his ego had just received.

"Well, I was certainly surprised when she told me she had written to you…"

It was a lie. She hadn't told him anything. He hadn't even known his mother-in-law would be spending the coming weeks with them until the previous evening during dinner, which had ended abruptly when Rose had scampered off with a terrible "headache" mid-entree.

He knew that during Ruth's painful stay the responsibility of entertaining was in his hands. He knew that Rose loathed her mother, for whatever childish reason, and that it was now his duty to play the part of the charming - not to mention conveniently wealthy - son-in-law.

He had always wondered why she simply hadn't married Nathan. It certainly would've made life easier, sparing him a dozen splitting headaches and a couple thousand dollars.

They would've made a perfectly wicked pair.

He chuckled cynically at the thought. And also shivered at the prospect of having such a horrid stepmother.

Noticing his sudden amusement, Ruth arched a judgemental brow in his direction, silencing him for only a moment before he continued, his tone taking a turn for the more sinister, "And I was also quite shocked to hear that you've been corresponding with my father…"

Looking in her direction, Cal watched as her expression shifted from pleasant to paranoid, her lily pale complexion suddenly sickly as she feigned ignorance with a delicate tinkle of a laugh.

He had her exactly where he wanted her in that moment.

She knew that she was trapped.

He couldn't help but smirk.

"I was taken aback when he mentioned Rose's condition to me," he continued, daring her to meet his dark, glaring eyes as his voice grew dangerously louder, "when I clearly remember explicitly telling you not to speak of it to _anyone…_ "

"Caledon, I-"

"Do you understand that if word had gotten out to even one wrong person that Rose had cohorted with th-that steerage rat we could've had _scandal_ on our hands?!"

Ruth was silent for a moment as she removed her gloves, folding and placing them gently in her lap. Even when she was cornered she was acting like a goddamned lady.

Cal wanted to smack her.

"Well, from what I've been told, it shouldn't be a problem any longer…" she replied finally, a smug grin tugging at her lips as she locked her eyes with his, "The child is no longer an issue, is it?"

"I suppose Nathan informed you of her little 'incident' as well?"

His eyes flashed back to hers and they shared a glance, gleaming with relief, perhaps even sparked with joy. It was the only answer he needed.

"And that was just the easy part…" He smirked under his breath as the car began to approach the mansion, where Rose would be waiting… loathing… unsuspecting.


End file.
